The Measure of a Barkley
by IcyWaters
Summary: Jarrod needs to know his relationship with Heath hasn't been knocked off solid footing after the trial of Korby Kyles in "The Murdered Party."


Disclaimer: _The Big Valley_ belongs to Four Star-Margate Productions and 20th Century Fox. No copyright infringement is intended and no profit is being made. Put simply: I don't own the show or the characters.

Author's Note: I've recently started watching _The Big Valley_ for the first time and am enjoying it immensely. When "The Murdered Party" drew to a close, I couldn't help but feel a scene was missing. Of course, the Barkley family didn't hold any resentment toward Jarrod, but it created such a terrific moment to further explore the bond between Jarrod and Heath. This story practically wrote itself as soon as the episode ended.

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><p><strong><span>The Measure of a Barkley<span>**

by  
>IcyWaters<p>

It had been a wearisome few days for all involved. There was no other way to describe it. Thankfully, the trial of Korby Kyles was finally over – and not a moment too soon as far as the Barkley clan was concerned. Fraught with controversy, it triggered too many rifts between the strong-willed children of Victoria Barkley, matriarch of the wealthiest and most powerful family in Stockton, California.

"I can't recall when I last enjoyed such a late dinner," Victoria teased while placing her napkin on the table. She glanced at the clock nearing eleven. "Any later and Silas could pass this off as breakfast."

"A fine breakfast it would make, too," Heath chimed in with a broad smile, finishing the last bite of roast beef on his plate before Silas could claim it. As if on cue, the trusted head of the Barkley's household staff swept in and cleared the dishware.

"Thank you, Silas, for a wonderful meal and for staying up with us," Victoria complimented before turning her attention back to her brood. "As much as I've enjoyed this evening, the hour is late and I should be getting off to bed."

"I'll walk with you, Mother," Audra offered. The pretty young blonde stood and took the older woman's arm, leaving the Barkley men to watch them depart the dining room.

"I'd better be turning in, too," Nick relented, tossing his own napkin on the top of the table. "After all, this is a working ranch and we have a lot to do tomorrow morning."

Jarrod Barkley, the oldest child of Victoria and the late Tom Barkley, stifled a chuckle at his younger brother's remark. He couldn't recall a single day in his adult life passing by without Nick eagerly pointing out that this was a _working ranch_. Even when out of town on business, he heard those words ringing in his ears.

"Goodnight," the dark-haired cowboy nodded to the two of them before heading off to his room.

That left Jarrod and Heath alone for the first time since the trial that afternoon; for the first time since Jarrod cross examined his new brother on the witness stand. With the others around, the mood during dinner had been easy and pleasant, but now Jarrod – elegant, shrewd, confident attorney Jarrod – felt unsure of his footing with the target of his intense questioning.

_From the day Heath came to us, he's had to prove to the people of this valley that he's the equal of anyone – that his word counts no less than any other Barkley._

"Boy howdy, I'd better be hitting the sack, too," Heath declared with his usual Southern-tinged charm. "If Nick beats me awake, I'll never hear the end of it." He started to rise from the table.

_None the less, you will hurt him._

Victoria Barkley almost pleaded with her oldest child to not defend Kyles, and she was not a woman who did so lightly. The words his mother spoke during her visit to his office echoed in the forefront of Jarrod's mind as he studied the sibling sitting to his left – a sibling he couldn't quite read – and the attorney took pride in his ability to read a person. "Heath, wait…"

The blond turned curious blue eyes to the attorney, but remained quiet.

Jarrod shifted uncomfortably, "Heath, I just want to make sure everything is all right between us."

"Is that all?" the newest Barkley questioned, his voice tinged with pure incredulousness. "You sounded so grim that I thought it'd be something serious," he grinned, reclaiming the seat. "Why wouldn't we be all right?"

Suddenly, Jarrod felt as if he asked the dumbest question possible. It was obvious by Heath's jovial disposition that he held no grudges. How was this young man able to throw him so far off his game? "With the trial, well, I…" he trailed off. When was he ever at a loss for words?

"Didn't I tell you not to turn Kyles down on my account?"

"A great deal happened between then and now."

Heath chuckled. "I'll be honest. When you recalled me to the witness stand and started cross examining me for the second time, you weren't my favorite person, big brother." Turning serious, he continued, "I know what I saw in that alley. If I held even a sliver of doubt about Kyles, I would've told the sheriff, would've spoken up during the inquest and sure as hell would've said something in court." He scooted a few inches away from the table, turned in the seat and draped an arm over the back of the chair. "But when you started phrasing the questions the way you did, I starting doubting myself. It's not a good feeling. Then I reckoned that's what a good attorney does."

Jarrod lowered his gaze, feeling his cheeks flush. He intended to apologize to his younger brother, yet Heath was praising him! Once again, he was left wondering: How did the blond do it? A wave of guilt washed over the attorney.

"I should never have defended him…"

How did he allow Korby Kyles to manipulate him with such an utterly ridiculous story as to his innocence? How did he come to make a decision to defend the man after Korby's father and brothers attacked and threatened Heath when the newest Barkley refused to change his testimony? Worse yet, Jacob Kyles had the impudence to insult Heath when he came to the ranch to ask Jarrod to accept his son's case.

_It's not as if he's a real member of the Barkley family._

Jacob Kyles didn't say it aloud, but all who stood in the dining room that morning knew what he meant. Tom Barkley's bastard. Damn, how Jarrod hated that word. He hated it as a child when he learned the meaning, hated it as an adult and grew to hate it even more once he met Heath. The attorney's hands gripped the armrests, his knuckles turning white with fury at Jacob Kyles' insinuations.

"I've been called a lot worse," Heath said barely above a whisper, seemingly reading Jarrod's mind.

The attorney looked up, a bit unnerved at being deciphered so easily, and saw the years of pain evident in those bright blue eyes, before a mischievous twinkle replaced the sadness.

"I'm sure you have been, too, seeing as you're a lawyer and all."

Jarrod laughed heartily at the remark, feeling better than he did in days, nodding in agreement that yes, he had been called several…unflattering…names. "Still, I shouldn't have defended Kyles," he repeated, hesitating for a moment. "But after listing to folks like Slim discussing the events and reading George Allison's editorial, it felt more and more like a kangaroo court." He sighed heavily, "When Matt Cooper resolved he lost the trial prior to formulating a defense for his client, I felt I needed to do something."

"And I'm proud of you for that, big brother."

Jarrod couldn't hide his surprise at Heath's admiration.

"Don't look at me like that," he playfully admonished. "I read the same newspaper as you. I rode into town and heard the same public opinion. While I know what I saw, I was the only one who saw it. Well, that is until Mr. Bingham came forward. If there's one thing I've learned from you, Jarrod, it's that every man deserves his day in court. I haven't always felt that way," Heath confessed, adding, "It took a lot of courage to buck the trend."

"Thank you, Heath. It means a lot to me."

The blond nodded in gratitude and a silence settled over the large room until the tranquility was abruptly broken by a loud snicker. "Be glad it wasn't Nick who witnessed the murder. Instead of this civilized conversation, the two of you'd be swapping blows in the dirt outside the front door."

Jarrod raised an eyebrow and one corner of his lip curled up, "As high as tensions were running around here, I believe you might be right." The two shared a warm laugh over their brother's blustery temper.

"You know, Jarrod," the blond rubbed his chin and furrowed his brow in deliberation, "if there's one of us you're worried about, it ought to be Audra."

"Audra?"

Heath flashed a lopsided grin, "Our little sister is still a might sore from losing the land for the new orphanage she has her heart set on building."

"I'll bet she is," Jarrod chuckled. "We'll do something about that." Another twinge of guilt gnawed at him. In his zest to defend his client, he soiled the name of Kyles' victim, respected citizen Colonel Ashby, causing undue pain to his grieving widow and family. "I take it Mrs. Ashley is refusing to even consider the donation now?" The elderly lady refused to believe the accusations that her murdered husband was involved in illegal narcotics smuggling.

"She's withdrawn all support and refuses to even speak to Audra," Heath explained. "Don't be too hard on yourself, Jarrod. Colonel Ashby was being investigated by a senator; his activities would have been exposed eventually."

"That may be true, but it doesn't make me feel any better about dragging his name through mud," the attorney conceded and regarded his brother carefully.

Heath came to the Barkley ranch an angry young man out to prove his mettle to the world; to take Tom Barkley's legacy down a notch and to get what he rightfully deserved. He got a lot more than he ever bargained for. With a new family by his side and answers to lingering questions that plagued him his entire life, the anger slowly dissipated, replaced by a quiet and reserved exterior.

Beneath it all was a sharp, observant and highly intelligent soul. Oh, Heath never had the fancy, formal education his siblings did, but he was smart nonetheless. Fair-minded, patient and willing to listen, he possessed the makings of a fine attorney.

"There's more than enough room in this family for another lawyer," Jarrod observed. "Now that Eugene has finally settled on a path in medicine, maybe we should send you to law school. It would be an honor to call you my partner at the office."

"Me? A lawyer?" Heath repeated in disbelief. "I'm flattered, big brother, but those fancy clothes and offices aren't for me. I like the wide open spaces, the smell of the fresh air and the feel of the dirt under my boots. Horses and cattle are for me what the courtroom is for you."

"Fair enough, little brother," Jarrod smiled. And Heath was very much his brother. Some might argue semantics; that they were half-brothers, not full-blooded brothers. But as far as Jarrod Barkley was concerned, Heath was every bit as much his brother as Nick or Eugene. Nothing could change that.

"Now I've really got to be getting off to bed," Heath yawned. "After all, this is a working ranch and there's no time for sleeping in," he added in a spot-on impression of Nick.

Jarrod laughed and shook his head. "You go on ahead. I'll get the lights in here."

"Goodnight, Jarrod."

"Goodnight, Heath."

Once his blond-haired brother departed, Jarrod sipped the remaining portion of his drink that went untouched since dinner concluded, put out the lights and ambled toward the staircase. With one foot on the lower step, he paused, turning his head toward the parlor.

The moon's soft glow drifted in through open window curtains, illuminating the portrait of Thomas Barkley mounted above the fireplace. Jarrod moved closer and stood in front of the man he dearly loved and respected. "I wish you got the chance to know Heath, Father. You'd be proud of him. I know I am."

**The End**


End file.
